Unintended
by ipona
Summary: They didn't need each other and maybe they never really had at all. Sweden/Norway, smut


_A/N: I figured I might as well post this here as well, because SuNor needs more love and smut is fun. :) What I intended to be a quick and innocent drabble became smutty PWP. I regret nothing. :D_

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"What's wrong?"

Norway's voice was a weak echo against the thick walls of the house they spent their long and cold days in. Sweden winched at the sound.

"Nothin's wrong."

Snorting, Norway turned away from him, gazing out the window, at the rainy streets of Stockholm. "Liar."

Bitter smiles and cold tears were things Sweden had become used to as the years went by, but he wasn't sure if he cried for the same reason anymore. Norway was so unforgiving, so cold where he had once been so warm.

"You need to get over him, _Sverige_."

This time it was Sweden who snorted as he leaned back in his chair. "Why?"

"Won't do any good. He's not coming back."

"Never got over you. You came back."

Sweden smiled as Norway's eyes widened and his head shot around to look at him, like a deer in headlights.

"What."

"Never got over you. And you came back."

"Then again," Norway answered, stern and cold, with an almost unnoticeable smirk playing at his lips, "I didn't come back willingly."

"Does it matter?"

Norway sighed and turned fully towards Sweden. "The resistance is growing strong. I can feel it."

They didn't have much time left. A hundred years had gone by and Sweden knew the feeling Norway was speaking of. It was that exhilarating adrenaline rush coursing through every part of his body, screaming for independence, revolution, and freedom. Sweden had felt the same in 1523, when Gustaf Eriksson, later Vasa, had led his people away from the Kalmar Union.

"Do you want to leave?"

"What do you think? I don't need you, and neither do you need me."

Smiling, Sweden accepted that, yes, the Norwegian was probably right. He rose from his armchair and stepped up to Norway, laying a hand on his cheek. He had always been a hopeless romantic, and gazing into Norway's blue eyes, he could almost imagine that Norway's cold stare held the same affection.

His touch ran down Norway's neck and arm to take his hand, soft and slender, and bring it to his lips. He closed his eyes and pressed one soft kiss to each knuckle before letting go. When his eyes fell open once more, Norway's expression was the same, arm once again hanging limp by his side.

"You are a fool," he muttered and leaned into a kiss, much more loving than Sweden had expected.

"You are beautiful," Sweden whispered in return, pressing the words into Norway's cheek before returning to his mouth to steal a second kiss. Despite Norway's snappy comebacks, barely audible between their lips, he stole a third, and a fourth, and many more, until neither of them could keep count anymore.

The afternoon was chilly, as expected from a rainy day in April, but it wasn't the cold that made Norway shiver as Sweden sat down in that armchair again, pulling the Norwegian with him as their kisses grew passionate and wild. He let his hands run over Norway's slender body, over his slim back and tight ass, feeling the muscles work under his hands as Norway clasped his hands behind Sweden's neck and poured his heart into kissing the wits out of the large man.

Their union had been a cold one. With one part wanting it more than the other, things wouldn't go anywhere near warmth and intimacy. Though Sweden had been burning – burning for Norway, burning to fill the gaping hole Finland had left, burning to once for all take what he had wanted for so long – he had calmed his yearning heart, locked it away in fear of losing everything.

But every now and again some sort of flame was lit, and when Norway was there in front of him, on top of him and all around him, just like this time, there was no holding back the flaming passion in Sweden's blood, that had waited and grown stronger with every look Norway had given him, every light, accidental touch of hands, every word that just _might_ have meant something more.

Sweden felt his pants beginning to get uncomfortably tight as Norway caressed his scalp, tugged at his hair and kissed him deep, small sounds of approval slipping from him as Sweden's hands delved in under his shirt and pants to feel his skin, soft but marred by scars caused by years of war. He wanted to do what he had never dared – to kiss every scar better, to find out the story behind every single one of them, and apologize for every single one he had himself put on the Norwegian.

It was not time for that, not now. Norway was mesmerizing and dangerously sexy, grinding his hips against Sweden's as he unbuttoned the Swede's shirt to reveal the impressive chest he hid underneath. Norway ran his hands over Sweden's chest fingernails rasping against pale skin and pink nipples. Lips joined his fingers, beginning at Sweden's neck with hard, sucking kissed, continuing on over his collarbone and down his chest, flattening his tongue over his nipple in a firm lick.

Soft gasps escaped Sweden's mouth as Norway kissed his chest and began rubbing his cock through the rough fabric of his pants. A heavy groan seemed to trigger Norway to undo the buttons and pull the Swede's pants down enough to expose his swollen dick to the cold air. He smiled and murmured something in soft Norwegian into Sweden's hip before pressing a kiss there and taking his cock in hand to stroke fully.

Sweden ran his hands through Norway's hair, stroking down his neck and shoulders to caress the soft skin. Running his index finger over a long, jagged scar on his left shoulder, he couldn't help but once again wondering where it came from.

When Norway's mouth, hot and wet, closed over his cock, those thoughts were chased to the back of his mind, where they would lay until he had time to deal with them. A most unattractive, choked gasp erupted from Sweden's throat and his hands gripped a bit too hard at Norway's hair as the man bobbed his head, wet lips sucking eagerly at the head of Sweden's cock.

"_Nor-ge_," Sweden moaned as he felt that tale-telling warmth in his loins. He pulled at Norway's head and the man looked up at him, lips still stretched erotically around his erection. Meeting that sensual stare, that obscenely unembarrassed look, Sweden threw his head back and groaned, all while pulling softly at Norway's hair, hoping he'd get the message.

Letting Sweden's cock go, Norway rose to his feet and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sweden's lips before taking a step away. His clothing was skewered and Sweden saw his raw arousal in the pink plush that spread over his face, and the tented front of his pants that showed off a quite impressive erection.

With that same look, dripping with sexual promises, on his face, Norway slowly unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide down his arms before dropping to the floor behind him. Hands ran over that pale chest, over slender muscles and down to his pants, pressing them down low on his hips, showing off a treasure trail of fine blonde hair disappearing under blue pants.

Sweden wanted to be down those pants. He wanted to nuzzle those fine hairs, he wanted to press kisses over that taut stomach and suck on the skin of those hipbones hard enough to leave marks for days.

A soft, soft moan escaped the Norwegian's lips as he grabbed his own cock through his pants, stroking slowly, mouth falling open as his eyes almost fell shut, a sensual look for Sweden only. The sound was almost echoed by Sweden, who felt the room getting too hot, the air too heavy with Norway on fire like this.

Popping open the buttons, Norway turned around, slipping his pants over his hips, baring his backside at an excruciating pace. As the pants fell to the floor, the blue fabric pooling next to the white shirt, Norway turned around again, standing fully nude before Sweden's curious eyes.

As Norway smirked and took a step towards him, Sweden hurriedly pushed his pants down over his hips and legs. When Norway was getting closer, he grabbed him by the waist and roughly pulled him down to straddle his lap again, their now bare erections brushing as Sweden hugged Norway to his chest, kissing his neck and shoulders, the desperate need to feel Norway closer burning him from within and the only outlet for it was to be close to the Norwegian, touching him, feeling him, kissing him, _fucking him_.

Norway's hands gripped Sweden's wrists and brought his hands back to the Norwegian's ass for Sweden to spread him open. The Swede squeezed Norway's ass hard before bringing his right hand up to Norway's face, silently urging the man to wet them for him. Norway took hold of the hand and sucked Sweden's index and middle finger into his mouth, wet tongue swirling around and between them, causing sparks of heat to fly through Sweden and his breath to pick up as he stared at Norway, mesmerized by the way his fingers slid between the beautiful man's full lips.

When Sweden's fingers were dripping – and when Sweden couldn't bear the sight and feel of Norway sucking his fingers off – he replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing Norway slowly as he brought his hand down to Norway's ass, spreading his cheeks with his hands and pressing one slick finger into him. Norway's breath hitched and he broke the kiss, choosing to just lean his forehead against Sweden's, breaths mingling between their faces, half-lidded blue eyes meeting in a swirl of passion and want.

Another finger was added, and then a third, and Norway' head fell forward on Sweden's shoulder, gasping in a mixture of aching pain and burning pleasure as Sweden's fingers found all the right spots inside of him. Sweden's own mind was just as muddled with the situation, the sexy little minx in his lap and the soft, keening moans that were muffled against the Swede's shoulder.

In a breathless gasp, Norway snapped; "Get on with it."

Sweden just hummed, kissing Norway's hair affectionately as he obliged, hands pulling at Norway's hips, placing him just right before pushing inside the Norwegian's loose hole. Norway gritted his teeth at the initial pain of the Swede's large erection filling him. Sweden leaned his head back and moaned as he was engulfed by Norway's tight heat, fighting not to set a pace of their hips before Norway was ready.

Wrapping his arms around Sweden's neck, Norway did move, lifting his hips only to slam them down again, making Sweden groan. Taking that as a cue, Sweden gripped Norway's hips hard, guiding him to a slow, deliberate pace, with skin slapping against skin, Norway biting his lips to keep from moaning and Sweden kissing away at Norway's neck, softly caressing the skin with his lips.

"Harder," Norway murmured into Sweden's ear with a murmur. Slamming into Norway harder, Sweden felt the heat getting unbearable and he brought one hand down to Norway's cock, rubbing the leaking pre-come over the head before stroking with vigor, wanting to bring Norway to release first.

The pace got irregular and erratic, and Norway's hand joined Sweden's on the Norwegian's cock. Together they stroked him off, bringing him to ecstasy. The sweet moan that fell from Norway's mouth was quiet but unrestrained as his release splattered over their chests. Sweden pulled out and with a few hard strokes he came as well, his semen blending with Norway's.

Their breaths were fast from exhaustion and their hearts were beating hard and as they calmed down, Sweden's hands traveled over Norway's body again, tracing patterns over his skin, stopping to caress a scar here and there.

"What's this one from?" Sweden touched the scar on Norway's left shoulder, running his finger over it lazily.

"Hm? It's from the Great Northern War."

"I did that?" Sweden was taken aback. He was sure he would have remembered something like that. Norway just hummed, hugging Sweden close in one last act of affection before he let go and rose from Sweden's lap on wobbly legs. Not letting Sweden help, he locked himself in the bathroom, taking a bath for hours, leaving the Swede with only the sink to wash himself off after their act of passion.

They didn't need each other, and maybe they never had.

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_Reviews are pretty nice. :)_


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